Guilt
by Serah Villiers
Summary: Shinji can't control the feeling, and has reached breaking point. He's willing to do anything to alleviate his guilt, anything...


**Shinji: Guilt**

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_I mustn't run away…I mustn't run away…I mustn't run away…_

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The door slowly slid open and deep chocolate eyes blinked at the darkness. The warm glow from the artificial lighting in the hallway shone through, murdering the darkness. The woman shook her head and closed the door quietly, the sound of muffled sobs breaking her heart as she did so. Turning to a fiery red-head sitting at the table trying not to look worried the woman broke down into tears…she had failed once again as a guardian.

Inside the dark room the curtains had parted slightly and a thin beam of moonlight filtered through playing with the features of a dark haired boy. The boy was lying perfectly still though he was not sleeping; his eyes were wide open and was half listening to the music pulsing through his ears. Silver trails marred his cheeks as he reached up with a frail hand to wipe at them.

Track 26 finished and he flicked back, it was his favourite and brought him a little comfort to hear it. Though right now nothing could ease the pain he was feeling. He felt empty, incomplete, as if there was a void inside of him that needed desperately to be filled. And the only person who had ever tried to fill it was now gone, and it was his fault.

He turned over to lie on his back, one arm hanging limply over his eyes and the other dangling over the side of his bed on the floor. He hadn't tidied anything in a while and an assortment of articles had accumulated on the carpet. His hand was resting gently on a dirty uniform shirt, a shirt that had missed the last load of washing for the week.

But he didn't care. Nothing seemed to bother him anymore. Misato would be mad at him for not getting his washing done, and for not picking up his things after himself but it just didn't faze him like it used to. He had tasted something, an emotion that he had not felt in years, but as soon as he had grasped it the feeling had slipped through his fingers. And again he was alone.

Alone with his thoughts, alone with his fears, alone with all of his jumbled emotions that were bursting to surface and show themselves…but he could not. He had no one to share them with anymore. And each time he thought of this a particular emotion became strong; guilt. It was _his_ fault that he no longer had anyone to share them with, his fault that there was no one to understand him, his fault…and no one was there to contradict him, no one told him otherwise, so it had to be true.

Shinji felt another tear slide down his cheek, and it dripped delicately onto the pillow. He watched it soak in until it faded away. Faded away, just like him…just like Kaworu. He didn't want to be alone anymore; he needed to be around someone right now, someone who understood him, someone who he could relate to. But the only person who had ever understood him was now dead. And it was his fault.

Shinji angrily slammed a fist into the CD player, and the lid sprang open revealing a spinning disc, it began to slow as Shinji walked over to his desk. He glared at his pale appearance in the mirror, his thin form shaking with anger, anger which he needed to vent on something…anything…

_Smash._

The mirror shattered, thousands of tiny pieces fell to the floor and gleamed in the moonlight, the sharp diamonds tinted crimson with Shinji's blood. Yet he felt better. But not healed. The emotional pain was gently subsiding, and he felt a dull throbbing in his hand, he gently rubbed at the gash as he heard worried voices in the hallway.

"I-I'm fine…really…"

"The hell you are, Shinji I'm coming in."

Once again the room was filled with the glow of the hallway as Misato jerked the door open and gasped at the pool of blood gathering at the boy's feet. He seemed oblivious to the liquid, though and moved to sit down on his bed and sleep.

"Don't you dare; Shinji get up now! Get up!"

He heard the voice yelling for him to stand but he couldn't summon enough energy to comply. He mumbled some weak, disjointed apologies as he heard another set of footsteps and another feminine gasp from Asuka. He vaguely heard someone phoning for an ambulance but the world was becoming darker and it was so hard to hear…everything was fuzzy and there was a ringing sound…

But he was warm, and safe. He felt happy, just like when he was with Kaworu. Maybe he could go and see him now? Go and visit him wherever the fifth child was. He still refused to believe he was an Angel, that the best friend he had ever had was nothing more than a killing machine. Kaworu had understood. Kaworu was kind. Kaworu had made him feel worth something, if only for a little while. He yearned to feel that again.

"I'm coming…Kaworu…"

"Shinji no, please hold on!"

**Owari**

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**Please review.**

**This is part 1 of 4; the sequels are already written and are all much longer than this. Though not my first fanfic, this is my first Evangelion fic and any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Took a while for me to gather the courage to post this...don't know why, it just took me so long to write that I wanted it to be as perfect as I could get it. Therefore I really welcome criticism, it'll make me post the next parts faster, and tell me if I should bother posting them at all. The next one is through Misato's point of view, at the NERV hospital.**

_-Written: 14th July 2004_

_-Latest edition: __15th July 2004_

_-Dagger_


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